Soft Place to Land
by moms2398
Summary: A One Shot I have no idea what to do with. If anyone wants to use it in a larger fic, please just let me know. I haven't developed the OC and don't know that I will...The scenario just came to me and I have had no other musings in its regards. Dean and another hunter take solace in each other.


She sat on a step that led down to the library, looking at him, sitting at the nearest table.

He glanced over at her with his eyebrows up. "Feeling better?"

She smiled. "Oh, yeah. It's amazing what a shower can do for your mood."

He chuckled. "Not to mention your smell."

Her jaw dropped open and she looked consternated. "Hey! You were no bed of roses yourself!"

He stood and walked over to the small table that held the liquor and poured two glasses of whiskey. "Hey," he responded with a grin. "I'm not sayin' it was you I was talkin' about."

She smiled up at him when he brought the glass to her and sat next to her. "Well, good. Because I will have you know I that always come out smelling like roses."

He laughed. "Yes, of course, you do!" He sipped his beverage as she did.

"Just so that you know."

"I stand corrected."

She leaned over and nudged him with her shoulder, playfully. He, in turn, glanced at her with a grin.

They fell into a companionable silence. After a moment, she took a deep breath and he looked at her.

"Are you okay?" He narrowed his green eyes.

She nodded, not looking at him. "Yeah. I'm good."

He regarded her for a while. She finally glanced over to him and turned slightly pink. "Really!"

"But?"

She shook her head and stood, walking over to the table, placing the drink down. She turned around to look at him, leaning on the table. "I hold my own in fight, don't I?"

He frowned for a moment, then nodded. "Absolutely!"

"I mean, even for a female?"

He sat straight. "For a female? For anyone! You could fine tune some technique but I was raised doing simulations when I wasn't actually fighting. It's the only reason I'm as good as I am."

She grinned, as she regarded him over the lip of her glass, knowing that he was not speaking with bravado or ego, but from fact.

"And, hey, we have to think that any fight we walk away from is a win."

"Yes," she nodded.

Dean growled at her. "What is the problem, Stanley?"

Kristan Leigh rolled her eyes at his destruction of her name. Then she sighed. "Nothing. Don't worry."

He approached her again. "Tell me," he commanded, leaning on the table next to her.

She looked at the drink in her hand. "It's nothing, really. I don't want you to think I'm getting girlie."

His eyebrows rose almost to his hairline as a smile played at his lips, even as he tried to keep it from appearing. "I hate to tell you this, Stan, but you are a girl."

She rolled her eyes again and looked up at him. "Excuse me?"

He smiled. "Sorry. Am I not supposed to point that out? You're definitely not a man. And I've only met one or two women who could hold their own as well as you do. So, tell me what the problem is."

"Do men feel like, sometimes, they need a soft place to land?" She asked.

He frowned. "You want to explain that?"

She seemed to search for words. "I don't know how to explain it. I'm good with who I am and what I do, for the most part. I can hang, have a beer – or something stronger," she lifted her drink. "but sometimes, I want to feel…" she shook her head and laughed, clearly embarrassed. "Never mind. This is ridiculous." She straightened and started to walk out. "You want a sandwich?"

He frowned after her for a moment, then beat feet after her. He followed her into the kitchen, where she started to pull bread out of the cupboard. He reached out and stopped her.

"Finish." He commanded, holding her blue eyes with his green eyes.

She was in full blush now. "Sometimes I want to feel less like one of the guys."

He frowned. "I thought we established that you're not a guy."

She shook her head. "I mean…" she growled in exasperation as her embarrassment keep the right combination of words from her. "Sometimes, I want to curl up in someone's arms." She pulled away. "It's not about sex. It has nothing to do with…lower…extremities. It's about strong arms making me feel safe." She refused to look at him. "I just wonder if men ever feel like that."

He stood there for a moment, regarding her back, knowing her face was aflame and hearing the quiver in her voice that made him terrified that she might cry. After a long moment, he stepped toward her and, passing her, grabbed her wrist and pulled her after him.

"What - ? Dean!"

He led her through the halls and down the stairs to his room. When he closed the door, she looked alarmed.

"Dean?"

"Do men feel that way? Do men want a – what did you call it? – a safe place to land?"

"_Soft_ place to land."

Dean nodded and took her chin. "The answer is 'Hell, yes, Kristan!' Only, we find it in sex when we can because we have the same problem you just did talking about it. Hell, we don't normally _have_ to talk about it because women seem to give it naturally."

Then, he released her chin and pulled her closer, running his hands up her arms to her shoulders. Then, he slowly pulled her into his arms into an embrace. He held her for a moment until she relaxed. Then she buried her face in his chest and curled her arms in so that he enveloped her. He lifted a hand to stroke her back and felt her sigh. "And we don't want to seem girlie, either."

She chuckled and poked at his ribs, but he didn't let go, and neither did she.

Dean couldn't remember the exact moment they decided to move to the bed. Still completely clothed, they lay on their sides, her head resting on his bicep while her fingers grasped his shirt with his other hand resting comfortably at her waist. Their legs were tangled together as they both dozed, completely at peace in a way that neither could remember having felt in a long time.

A knocking on the door roused Dean, first. He suffered a moment's confusion when he went to sit up and felt a weight on his arm. When he looked down and saw her blink awake, his look of concern and confusion softened. He smiled. "How are you feeling?"

She smiled up at him. "Much better, thank you." Her eyebrows rose. "You?"

He chuckled. "Maybe next time we can try it my way," he wiggled his eyebrows as the knocking on the door grew more insistent.

"_DEAN?!"_

Dean groaned and rolled out of the bed. "Sam's gonna have a great time with this."

Kristan's eyes widened. "Oh, my god!"

Dean only chuckled in response as he walked to the door. He quickly opened it and moved out.

"Jeez, Sam, can't a guy chill out with some tunes?! Where's the fire?" She heard him say as the door closed behind him. She moved closer to the door and heard Sam ask:

"Have you seen Kristan?"

"Stanley? It's been a while. Why? Have you checked her room?"

"Yes. She's not in there. Do you think she went out?"

"Nah, she's probably in the garage or the library – it's either books or cars with that one. You take one, I'll take the other."

As their voices faded, she breathed a sigh of relief and cracked the door open, peeking to check the coast was clear and slipped out toward the kitchen.


End file.
